Moonlight Wish
by The Scarlet Sky
Summary: Tetra's thoughts as she waits outside Forsaken Fortress, musing over the name that enters her dreams. Windwaker oneshot, right before the second journey to Forsaken Fortress. Tetra's POV. Sorta kinda Link x Tetra.


**Note: **A short little ficlet that I hope will be to your liking. I love Tetra loads, and after playing Phantom Hourglass I rediscovered how much I adored her character (too bad the game skimped on her so much). So, here's a Windwaker oneshot.

Disclaimer: I still own nothing. Shocking.

Moonlight Wish

My arms lean upon the rough wood of my ship's rail, the only thing separating me from the watery depths below. The waves are rocking the ship gently tonight; it's a far cry from the storms that have plagued the sea as of late. It's taken many a sailor's sweat to keep this ship afloat--at this point, I'm willing to savor any taste of calm, no matter how brief. I sigh, staring upward at the expanse of sky overhead. The moon shines alone in the sky, a solitary beacon in a sea of night. No, there is no star to wish upon tonight.

Wishes…what could I really wish for, anyway? Power? Wisdom? Courage? What good are they to me? They've brought about a good deal more ruin than they have prosperity.

Dissatisfied with the view above, I lower my gaze and stare instead at my murky reflection below. It constantly changes, swaying with the ripples of the ocean to create an unsteady portrait of a girl with questioning blue eyes: a chameleon, changing colors with the sea.

When the waves are rough, I am the captain—the savior, the one voice of reason, the person expected to save the ship from ruin. When the waves are calm, I'm Tetra—the strong leader able to beat cabin fever out of her crew's system. And when the ocean vanishes and it's sand beneath my feet, I'm not entirely sure who I am.

_Zelda_. That's what he had called me.

I groan and shake my head, turning my back to the ocean. "Everything alright, Miss Tetra?" Nudge calls, but I simply wave away his concern and depart to my quarters. I doubt he'd understand what I'm going through. In fact, I'm not even sure I understand.

_Zelda_. Such a strange name.

I lay myself on my bed, eyes wide open as they stare at the ceiling above. I've been doing that a lot lately. Not much else to do when you can't sleep, I suppose. I roll over a bit, suddenly uncomfortable, and try to end my restlessness.

Zelda. Zelda. For the love of Nayru, what does that name even _mean_?

I pound my fist into my pillow in frustration, groaning as that name once again enters my mind. I've never heard it before. My crew has never heard of it before. And yet, it plagues me now—this bizarre collection of syllables forming a name I've never known.

Ever since that night in Windfall—that night my crew took Cannon's bombs for their own—this has been happening. Night after night. My hand aches, and I can't explain why. That name resounds in my head, and I don't even remember hearing it before.

Wait. My eyes snap open as everything clicks: it began that night. The last time I saw _him_.

By the power of Din, that boy's been meddling in my life enough already; now he's making me hallucinate. Him. Link. The boy from Outset.

The boy who…saved my life.

_Saved my life? _I scoff and shake my head. I could have escaped well enough on my own; of that I'm certain. But he saved me nonetheless, despite the fact that I was perfectly capable of saving myself. His sister was the one suffering for it, not me. If he had just stayed put—

Well, if he had stayed put, I'm not even sure I'd be here right now.

Here. Forsaken Fortress.

The searchlights are in the distance, and I don't dare get any closer. The crew thinks I'm mad, wanting to help that boy save his sister and the victims. They think this is suicide. But I'm the captain, calm sea or not, and I say that we're obliged to go. Isn't that the point of being a pirate anyway—the adventure, the danger, the risk? Besides, that _thing_—that monstrous bird—tried to carry me off into Farore-knows-where to sit as a damsel in distress rotting in a prison cell.

I've never learned how to play that role well.

"Miss Tetra! Miss Tetra!"

Nudge's call rises me to my feet, and my sandals slap against the stairs as I run towards him, exclaiming, "What is it, Nudge?"

His hand points in the distance, and he says finally, "He's here, like you said."

I walk to the rail again, and far off in the distance, I see a small red dot bobbing on the waves. I'd swear that there was a glimmer of green aboard its deck, and it boldly starts for the Fortress—fearless, determined, and certain.

Just like a real pirate ship should.

Zelda. In the dreams, that was what he'd call me. Him, the boy in green, proudly sailing off knowing that he'll probably never come back. Him, the only member of his ship's crew: captain and mates all in one. I don't know what to think of him. I don't know why he's the one calling me that in my dreams—hell, I don't know a lot of things right now.

"Miss Tetra?"

I blink and stare at the concerned faces of my shipmates. Hand on my hip, my mouth eases into a cocky grin, and I shout, "Why are we still sitting here? We're following that boat straight to the Forsaken Fortress!"

Murmurs of discontent travel through the crowd before dispersing at my disapproving glare. Pirates, they called themselves. Terrors of the sea, they were called. Right now, the only man I could see with the soul of a pirate was arriving at his destination on a rocky port, green hat swaying in the wind.

As the boat lurches forward, I feel a lump rise in my throat. I've braved dangers before many a time, some arguably more perilous than the one I'm about to face. But never, never, have I feared so much for something—wanted something so terribly that I couldn't even explain why.

I search wildly above me, but to no avail; there are no stars out tonight. A thick blanket of clouds obscure them from view. Sighing, I look up again, and my eyes fall once more upon the moon. For a moment or two, I observe it silently, then clasp my hands together in some sort of attempt at reverence.

"Just let him be safe," I whisper to the moonlight. "Please, just…let him be safe."

Superstition is for those who can't afford to live on luck and fate alone. Superstition is for the weak-minded. Superstition is for old women, for fortune-tellers, for fools.

But I suppose anyone foolish enough to sail to the Forsaken Fortress is allowed to wish on a moonbeam or two.


End file.
